


Over And Over Again

by mariuspondmercy



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Enjoltaire Week 2016, M/M, exr week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariuspondmercy/pseuds/mariuspondmercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not having found your soulmate was not the end of the world. Plenty of people lived happily without them - Grantaire was one of those. Plus, it wasn't that easy to find your soulmate. All you were given were impressions, feelings, urges, and, in some cases, apples and patriotism. When Grantaire meets Enjolras, he knows they're no soulmates, but that doesn't stop him from falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> written for the exrweek2016. 
> 
> Day 1: Embrace

Soulmates were a funny thing, Grantaire mused as he looked upon his array of paintings, all lined up for the opening of his second gallery show in a few hours. When you turned 18, you got an impression of your soulmate; and then every birthday after that, too. For some it might be the laughter of their best friend or a really intense feeling that Jedward were the best candidates to ever represent Ireland in the Eurovision. Grantaire had woken up to ash and dust.

The system was deeply flawed, which is why not everyone was too keen on it. Not that there was anything anyone could change. Legally, meeting your soulmate was the easiest way to get out of a marriage. How did anyone prove that the other was your soulmate though? That had been the case with his parents. His father had been his mother’s soulmate but his mother not his father’s. After the death of Grantaire’s older brother and the crippling debt his father had fallen into, he’d run off with a younger woman, claimed that she was his true soulmate, which sped up the divorce immensely and cut short the alimony Grantaire’s mother got. Now she was happy with the man whose soulmate she wasn’t either, but they had a wonderful little daughter and Grantaire knew they would last for eternity.

Some might never find their soulmate. With seven billion people, how was that even possible? Especially seeing as some impressions were so vague, it was hard to follow them to find a soulmate. On his 20th birthday, Grantaire had had the deep desire to go to England. He had followed through, spending to semester abroad, travelling for another semester through every little corner. He had come back to France feeling even more defeated than before – finally a lead and nothing had come from it.

Now he was standing amidst a room with 23 paintings, ten of which were his soulmate-impressions tried to be captured on canvas. His best friend Joly kept saying that maybe he had more than one soulmate – it was the case for Joly and his partners after all. At least that would explain the vast difference in his soulmate-paintings. Grantaire always argued that all of them had a golden thread, something that inexplicitly bound them together.

With a sigh, Grantaire turned his gaze away and went back to where Éponine, Joly and Bossuet were decorating the few tables standing around.

“Ready for your big night?” Bossuet smiled softly.

“Bit nervous. It’s the first time I’m showing these stupid soulmate things to anyone but you guys and Ponine.”

“They’re not stupid. Even if the concept of soulmates is… questionable, at best, the paintings are still amazing.” Éponine softly squeezed his hand before deciding differently and pulling him into quick hug. With a kiss to his cheek, she drew back again. “Plus, you’ve got lots of friends, you’ll be swamped with compliments and people praising your work. Everyone’s bringing a friend of theirs who’s bringing a friend and so on. Plenty of people, lots of distractions, lots of admirers.”

Grantaire smiled softly at her. “I will try to impress all those people, and the dozens upon dozens of admirers!”

As soon as the gallery actually opened, Grantaire was whisked away by people here and there, asking questions about the paintings, asking for prices, and asking if he did commissions. Since it was his second gallery in Paris, he had already established a reputation, much to his amazement. His last gallery had been three years ago. His days after that had been filled with mostly naps and coffee in between panting commissions and his own work.

He felt like this exhibition though was much more personal than the first, probably due to all the soulmate paintings. His last gallery had mostly been works he’d done at uni or impressions of England. Now this, this was something very different. More soul-baring, more real, more Grantaire.

“This is a nice one,” a voice next to him said.

Most of the people had already left by now, meaning the guy was probably a friend of a friend. Grantaire turned towards him and smirked.

“I hope all of them are nice.”

“They are, but something drew me to this one. Why did you title it _The Embrace_?”

“It’s an odd title for this work, isn’t it? It’s my newest soulmate impression, actually. I don’t know, I felt like…” He stopped and blushed.

Under no circumstances would Grantaire bare his soul in front of this stranger (acquaintance? Friend of a friend?), let alone in front of anyone who looked like the sun and the moon had decided to create an equivalent to their eternal beauty.

“No, please, go on. It’s okay though, if you don’t want to. I get it. Soulmate impressions are really personal.”

“And really weird.” Grantaire huffed out a laugh. “The stickiness of fig juice on my lover’s chin. That was the impression I got.”

“I see that.” He cocked his head and smiled softly. “And the title?”

“An embrace of working material. I didn’t want to call it _Fig_ or something similar. The colours are actually all mixed with fig juice. It’s perfectly save and doesn’t mould or smell, in case you were wondering. That was my friend Joly’s concern.”

“He’s very peculiar with bacteria and such.”

“You know him.”

“Mhm, from Les Amis. Heard of it?”

Grantaire snorted. “Yeah. Joly and Bossuet want me to go but I don’t know. Too much enthusiasm in one place doesn’t sit well with me.”

“I bet I could convince you of the opposite. Enjolras the name, I lead the too enthusiastic group.” He held out his hand.

Grantaire shook it, a smirk on his lips. “Yeah? How are you gonna convince me?”

“Come on.” Enjolras softly tugged on his hand and lead him through the room until he stopped in front of yet another soulmate painting. “Tell me about this one.”

“Uhm… _Apple Trees_. It’s just a landscape painting of when I studied in England. It was my 21 st birthday and… apple trees. Don’t ask me, it’s super weird.”

“You know what my 21st birthday impression was? The feeling of having done something really really horrible and undignified. That’s not something you want to connect with your soulmate. I was in England, too, though. Actually, I came back just over a week ago. I studied abroad as well.”

“Oh really? That’s quite a coincidence,” Grantaire smiled softly. “Anyway, why are we in front of this painting?”

“Because there’s enthusiasm in it. I only know what Jehan has taught me, which is mostly that yellow is happy and you use lots of yellow and gold. Even the apples on the tree are gold. I think that’s pretty enthusiastic.”

Grantaire couldn’t help but think that this Enjolras-guy was still holding his hand.

“Or maybe I just ran out of other colours.”

Enjolras laughed, and if that wasn’t the best sound Grantaire had ever heard, he didn’t know what else was. It seemed as if his voice hugged his heart tightly and refused to let go.

“Nah, fuck it, you’re right, I just really like using gold. It’s been one of the first soulmate impressions I got, just… gold. Quite boring.”

“Better than waking up on my last birthday, feeling like you’ve been frozen alive.”

Grantaire pulls a face. “Yeah no, that’s really uncool. Or… very cool? For me it’s mostly all really warm. Why are yours so negative? Shit, your soulmate must be…”

“Don’t finish that sentence, please. Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of made-up scenarios.”

“Do you wish you won’t meet them?”

Enjolras furrowed his brows and quickly squeezed Grantaire’s hand before letting go. “That’s an answer you’ll get if you join our next meeting. Deal?”

“You little minx.” Grantaire groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, yes, I’ll come but I can’t promise to participate or to like it.”

“I’ll take that risk. Can you tell me more about the fig painting?”

“Of course. I woke up with the feeling of the juice running down my chin, and I knew it was a fig. And I knew the chin was shaven. Soulmates are a fucking weird thing. After that, I tried eating figs. They’re quite nice, but very messy. Do you like them?”

“Nope. Courf is obsessed with them but I’m not keen on the texture at all. So, the painting?”

“It just… came to me, you know, the way I had to paint it. And I know this isn’t me eating a fig. It must be my soulmate. I don’t know why I know it, but I do. I’ve never seen anyone or anything. I couldn’t tell you their skin colour, their gender, their hair colour, nothing. In the back of my mind I’m always perking up when it comes to blond but a friend of mine does that, too, and his soulmate is brunette. It really doesn’t mean anything.”

“I like the colours. They feel soft.”

“I’m glad, because that’s what I was going for. Hey, if you know Joly, I can show you a painting I did for him!” He gently tugged Enjolras with him, showing him a statue which looked like different stuffed animals combined into one.

“The premise of it sounds eerie but it actually turned out super nice,” Enjolras smiled. “Is it because he’s a paediatrician?”

“Yes.” He beamed at him. “I’m donating it to the children’s hospital after this exhibition closes. I asked them if they wanted to have it first, obviously. They said it’s really cool and the kids will like it.”

“And it’ll be amazing for your reputation. Imagine how many people will see it, read the name tag, and just have your name in mind. Even if it’s just in the back of their minds. Maybe they’ll visit your next gallery because of it.”

“Told you, you’re full of enthusiasm.” Grantaire smiled softly. “A little too full for my heart to take. Joly, Bossuet, Éponine and I are going out once we’re locking up her, to celebrate a bit. You wanna come?”

“Oh yeah, sure! I’m certain a few of the others want to come as well.”

Grantaire had a hard time believing his luck. Somehow, this really cute guy had actually approached him. Sure, he was a friend of a friend, but Grantaire decided, just for this one evening, to think that that wasn’t the only reason Enjolras had first talked to him.


	2. Marianne, Mona Lisa and Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for the exr week 2016 - day 2: liberate

Joly had his head against Grantaire’s shoulder while the latter was doodling idly on Joly’s notes. Bossuet helpfully supplied him with the coloured pencils Grantaire sometimes asked for. By the end of the meeting, Grantaire’s first ever Les Amis de l’ABC meeting, the notes about a potential raise of university fees was drenched in blue and red.

Once everything was wrapped up, Enjolras immediately slid into the chair next to Grantaire, where Joly had previously been sitting.

“So?” He observed him with keen eyes and a soft smile. “How did you like your first meeting?”

“I was really productive.” He pushed the notes over to Enjolras, who raises an eyebrow.

“Captain America?”

“One of my soulmate impressions was patriotism.”

“Patriotism? And your choice of expressing that is Captain America?”

“Steve Rogers is the most patriotic person I know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Why, should I sketch you? How do you wanna be painted?”

“Like one your French girls,” Bossuet chipped in, kissing Enjolras’ cheek. “Seriously, can I commission that?”

“Of course not!” Enjolras said, scandalized.

“Of course yes! If you pay me for it, I draw you anything you want. I’m an art hoe, in two ways. So like a bi art hoe. Also in two ways. Does that make me a quadruple art hoe here?”

“Certainly does, my friend, certainly does.” Bossuet clasped his shoulder. “Joly and I are off now. I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll bring you a sketch of the painting.” Bossuet laughed at that, Enjolras let out a strangled groan. “I see you tomorrow. Please kiss your boyfriend’s forehead from me before he falls asleep.”

“Will do.” Bossuet gave him a mock-salute and bid Enjolras his goodbyes before he collected Joly and left the Musain.

“You’re not… you’re not serious about the painting, are you?” Enjolras chewed on his bottom lip and looked at Grantaire, a bit uncertain.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I obviously won’t, no.” He’d still paint it in his mind, because now the image of a naked Enjolras, the French flag draped over his most private parts. “I do believe it could be liberating though, to see yourself like that. I’m not asking you to be my model, don’t worry. Though, really, nude modelling is the least erotic you can imagine.”

“Is it? Huh. Why? Not that I’m considering it, I’m just curious.”

“Getting naked for France would be very patriotic. I’m just saying…”

“That doesn’t even make sense and you changed the topic!”

“Nah, you’re right, I was thinking Lady Godiva, but she was English. Though in _Liberty Leading The People_ , Liberty exposes her boob.”

“You’re not selling it well.”

“I’m not good at drawing people.”

“I feel like we’re having two different conversations.”

Grantaire laughed and took a sip of his lemonade. “Probably. Sorry, my mind is still preoccupied with Captain America. He’s hot. And I like to draw his shield. I don’t know why. Calms me down.”

“Is it because it’s a circle?”

“Maybe. It’s easy to draw.”

“Unlike people?”

“Yeah. I’m more into abstract art or landscapes. I can draw parts of people, like chins or one eye or ankles and calves and thighs. Just not a complete human.”

“I think your Cap looks great,” Enjolras said, smiling softly.

“It’s because half his face is behind his shield, so I didn’t have to draw as many features.”

Enjolras nodded solemnly and stayed silent for a bit, nursing his water. “What if Bossuet actually commissions the painting?”

“I won’t, it was a joke. And even if, he won’t be mad at me if I refuse him. Artistic differences. Just cause I painted him nude doesn’t mean I’ll paint everyone nude.”

“Was it very awkward?”

“Nah. Joly was there, too. He kept throwing food at me and Bossuet. It was a lot of fun, actually. I was a nude model once, in art school, to earn some money. It’s really stupid. The poses are hard work because you need to constantly flex your muscles and hold a single pose for like an hour or longer. I don’t know why people think it’s romantic. It really really isn’t. No flirting, nothing.”

“So you won’t draw me?”

“I won’t, I promise. Don’t worry. I’d make it very aesthetic, but I promise. It makes you feel uncomfortable and I’ll never make anyone uncomfortable. At least not in that way.”

“Even though it would be liberating?”

“Do you wanna be liberated?”

“I think it depends.”

“Let me take you to the museum tomorrow. It’ll be a cultural and artistic liberation.”

Enjolras nodded softly. “Tomorrow around noon? We could meet here.”

“Alright, it’s a date.” Grantaire smiled. “Well, not a date-date, just a… you know.” He blushed furiously and cleared his throat. “Unless…” he added in a small voice.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it being a date-date,” Enjolras smiled at him and pointed towards the little doodles again. “Back to Captain America: did you know that Marvel has a Captain France, too?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Courf told me! He could fly and was strong and very durable.”

“Shame he’s male and not female. We do have Marianne after all.” Grantaire was glad for the change of topic, because he was certain he could’ve never dealt with actually talking about their date. He could hardly believe it, especially since they didn’t really know each other. “How about, for tomorrow, I’ll doodle you Marianne as a superheroine?”

“I would actually appreciate that,” Enjolras smiled, a slight blush spreading over his neck. Grantaire found it adorable.

“Alright. So instead of drawing you like a French girl, I’ll draw you a French girl.”

Enjolras laughed loudly and clasped Grantaire’s shoulder. “I’m looking forward to it. Unfortunately, I’ve got to head off now. Courf, Ferre and I are having out bi-weekly movie night.”

“Is it called bi-weekly because…”

“Yes,” Enjolras groaned but couldn’t conceal a small laugh escaping his plump lips. “It’s bi-weekly because it’s every other week and because Courfeyrac insisted that we only watch movies where at least one actor is bi or where one of the characters is canonically gay.”

“How does that work out for you?”

“We’re on the last _Twilight_ movie now… Kristen Stewart to be thanked.”

“She’s awesome but the movies are… well. Anyway, enjoy the movie. I’ll see you tomorrow. 12:30?”

“12:30 is good. I’m looking forward to it. And to my Marianne.” Enjolras squeezed Grantaire’s hand, said his final goodbyes, and left the Musain.

Grantaire groaned loudly and banged his head against the table. Shit. Now he actually had a date with Enjolras. Sure, he was looking forward to it, but what if he couldn’t convince Enjolras to like the art? He was more worried about that than about the rest of the date. Though he knew, tonight the latest, his anxiety would jump right in and try to tell him everything that could possibly go wrong. But for now, he was content to curl up in his bed and doodle Marianne as a heroine.

The next day, at 12:30pm sharp, Grantaire proudly presented his doodle to Enjolras.

“It’s a little wrinkled because I fell asleep on it…”

“It’s amazing, thank you!” He carefully tucked it away in his bag. “Do you wanna grab a coffee before we head to the museum? My treat. You can pay for coffee after the museum.”

Grantaire grinned. “That’s an offer I cannot refuse.”

“You know…” Enjolras began once they had their coffees and were on their way, “I woke up with a really strong soulmate feeling today.”

“A good one? Less weird than my patriotism?”

“It’s again this feeling of having done something dreadful. But I’m looking forward to the museum. If you could show me some happy paintings? Or tell me interesting fun facts? I’d appreciate that so much.”

“For example the fact that DaVinci liked to paint dicks with legs?”

Enjolras chuckled. “That is quite an interesting fact, I didn’t know.”

“Once we’re in front of the Mona Lisa, I’ll tell you why people think she might’ve been pregnant while painted.”

“That sounds like a wild story.”

“It actually isn’t, sorry to disappoint.”

“I doubt your stories are actually disappointing, no matter how boring and dull you might find them.”

“Ever the diplomat. No wonder they chose you as their leader. But I suppose I have to get to know you better to properly judge that.”

Enjolras smiled softly and blushed. “I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!  
> maybe check me out on [ tumblr ](http://mariuspondmercy.tumblr.com/)


	3. Divine Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for the exr week 2016 - day 3: greek gods/greek mythology 

“Okay but hold up.” Jehan shifted, sat up properly, and raised their hand into the air. “May I speak?”

Éponine giggled and nodded. Both of them – all of them, really – were fairly drunk already. Bahorel’s weird, probably self-made, whiskey together with Courfeyrac’s ingenious idea to play drinking games had been a lethal combination. Grantaire was half asleep in the armchair, Enjolras sat on the chair’s arm, leaning against Grantaire. The pleasant buzzing of his friends and friends of friends nearly had Grantaire drifting off into his thoughts, but Enjolras’ arm pressed tightly against his own did its best to ground him.

“Spill the truth, my friend.” Joly gestured wildly, nearly knocking Bossuet’s bottle out of his hand.

Jehan clutched Grantaire’s shoulder and heaved themselves up. Swaying, they stood on the sofa cushions. “I just wanna tell you a poem by Thomas Mertens. ‘S about a Greek Goddess. Ready?”

Their friends nodded, looking at them in anticipation – apart from Joly and Musichetta, who were currently making out half on top of their boyfriend.

“Alright, listen up! Oy, listen!” They softly nudged Enjolras, making him look up from where he was leaned against Grantaire. “Eurydice is impossible, if Orpheus looks away, Eurydice doubts and weeps. If Orpheus looks at her, Eurydice dies.“ Jehan took a curt bow, nearly toppling off the sofa, and collapsed down against Éponine.

“Beautiful poem, crap delivery,” Grantaire stated. “I’m saying… six out of ten, would only recommend when drunk.”

“But it’s Eurydice,” Jehan whined. “She’s the bestest.”

“You’re no Eurydice though,” Grantaire said. “More… Persephone?”

Jehan pulled a face.

“Not Persephone? Alright. So not Eurydice, not Persephone… Definitely not Zeus, you can keep it in your pants.”

“Does that make Courfeyrac Zeus?” Bahorel asked. The suggestion earned him a punch to the arm by the man in question.

“Excuse you? I enjoy sex as much as you do, if I remember correctly from your latest hangover text messages sent out of some stranger’s bed. Maybe you’re Zeus!”

“Woah, I’m offended! Nope, I’m more Hercules than Zeus.”

“Doesn’t count,” Grantaire intervened, “Hercules isn’t really a God.”

“Divine hero, to be precise,” Jehan adds. “But we can take them into consideration as well.”

“Alright. So you don’t wanna be Persephone and you’re no Eurydice. Hecate? Goddess of witchcraft and necromancy?”

“I could roll with that,” Jehan said, “but I personally see myself more as Calliope, muse of epic poetry. Éponine is more Persephone or Hecate than I am.”

“Artemis,” Éponine said, “I wanna be Artemis. Not the virgin part but the rest.”

“Noooo,” Grantaire whined. “You’re Hecate.”

“I guess I’m just too awesome to be only one Goddess,” Éponine grinned. She took a swig of her whiskey and passed the bottle on to Grantaire.

“What about me?” Joly asked. “Who am I?”

“A nerd,” Bossuet muttered under his breath.

Joly punched his boyfriend softly. “That means no sex tonight for you. Chetta, back me up here.”

“You are both nerds. Can’t believe I love you two.”

Joly pouted, snuggling closer to Musichetta. “You’re the Goddess of meanness.”

“That doesn’t even exist,” Jehan said. “Styx is the personification of evil but that’s not our Chetta. She’s more Phoebe – bright intelligence and prophecy. Or Gaia or Demeter.”

“I think I like Jehan more than you.” Musichetta kissed Joly’s cheek but held on tightly to her boyfriend.

“So what about me?” Joly pressed again. “Please?”

“Asclepius, God of healing,” Grantaire said.

His friends murmured their agreements and nodded unanimously.

“Well that was easy,” Joly laughed. “Now do Bossuet!”

“I already have a few years ago,” Grantaire said wistfully. “But if you insist…” He grinned. “Bossuet is definitely Tyche. Goddess of fortune, fate, chance and providence. You guys are too easy! Give me someone who’s harder to sort.”

“Me! Cause I’m not Zeus, I refuse.”

“That rhymes,” Jehan pointed out.

“So it must be true,” Courfeyrac sing-sang. “Now sort me!”

Grantaire chuckled and absentmindedly ran his fingers over the back of Enjolras’ hand. “Hmm… Helios. The God of the sun.”

“Isn’t that just Apollo?”

Jehan shook their head. “Nope. Well, yes. The two have become increasingly the same but they’re very different. Apollo is also an Olympian while Helios is a Titan. I agree with R though. You make a good sun God. So this was easy. All of you are easy.” Jehan pointed at Bahorel. “Ares. R?”

“Agreed,” Grantaire nodded. “Try Cosette. I’ve got my idea, wanna see if ours line up.”

“Aphrodite,” Marius chimed in. “She’s Aphrodite.”

“No way!” Jehan shook their head. “I mean, she’s gorgeous and lovely, but I see her more as Hestia.”

“I gotta agree with Marius,” Grantaire said. “Hestia is good, but Cosette is all about love. This woman woke up one day and decided she was beautiful. Decided that everyone was beautiful. Isn’t that what love and beauty are all about?”

Jehan furrowed their brows and nodded. “Putting it that way…”

“See. Easy. Now, Marius? How do you feel about being Hermes? Travel, communication, language… or Alke, prowess and courage.”

Marius blushed a little. “That’s how you see me?”

“What?” Grantaire’s voice automatically softened when he addressed Marius again: “Of course. That’s definitely how we all see you. Jehan, what do you think?”

“Both are good choices. I can’t decide but I’m leaning towards Hermes.”

“I’m leaning towards Alke,” Courfeyrac said. “In the end, it’s up to Marius to decide.”

Grantaire nodded. “It’s all so easy. Combeferre definitely is Athena, no doubts there. Feuilly is Hephaestus. So, give me someone else.”

“Yourself,” Jehan said, a sly grin on their lips. “Sort yourself.”

“That’s easy. Dionysus, always drunk and shit.”

“No, you’re not.” Enjolras shifted a little. “You’re more… Patroclus.”

“I’m not really gangly or something. And I’m really not into medicine.”

“But you’re kind and gentle. Patroclus feels right.”

“Does that mean you’re Achilles then?”

Enjolras snorted. “I beg to differ. Achilles was full of wrath. I hope that’s not the case for me. Courf likes to call me Apollo sometimes.”

“Aww, that does fit. You’re quite a sunny boy. You’re just not such an asshole like Apollo. But I can see it, yes.” Grantaire nodded and squeezed his hand softly.

They had been dating for three weeks now, meaning they’ve been on dates every now and then for two months before they had decided that, yes, they really did like each other and really did want to try their luck at dating. It had been easy, much to Grantaire’s surprise. Usually, he was a ball of tightly wound nerves around any date, anyone he fancied. But Enjolras? Enjolras was gorgeous, truly an Apollo, more handsome than Michelangelo’s David, pure like mountain water – but there was no nervousness. From the moment they’d met, Grantaire had felt at ease in Enjolras’ vicinity. Apparently it had been the same for Enjolras. According to him, he never talked freely about soulmates or his soulmate impressions, but with Grantaire it had never been a problem. Such a shame, Grantaire thought to himself, that they weren’t soulmates. Surely, if you met your soulmate, you’d know immediately. At least that had been the case for Bossuet, Musichetta and Joly, as well as for Cosette and Marius. But him and Enjolras? No. Still, he didn’t give a fuck: soulmate or not, he was on his way to fall in love with Enjolras. That settled the debate for him.

“You two are either Achilles and Patroclus or Orestes and Pylades.” Jehan softly nudged Grantaire’s shin with their foot.

“That is so gay.” Grantaire laughed a little. “But I’ll take it. Though I thought we’re doing Gods and Goddesses, not just random Greeks.”

“Honey. We’re drunk off our wits. Cosette is asleep on Marius. Bahorel is doodling on Feuilly’s arm. And their sleeping dog. Cut us some slack.”

“Fair enough.” Grantaire stretched a little, one of his hands still on Enjolras’ hand. “Are we crashing here?” He directed the question at his… boyfriend?

Grantaire had no idea. They hadn’t yet talked about that, hadn’t labelled their relationship. Part of him was glad, because it was so easy. Part of him – namely his anxiety – needed a label to be more secure in their relationship. He itched to talk about it, but not now. Now he was still softly buzzing from the alcohol.

“If Marius has enough blankets for us?” Enjolras asked, looking over at him.

“Yeah, sure. We have plenty. I’ll get them out in a second.” Marius pressed a kiss to Cosette’s forehead and carefully shifted her sleeping form off him so he could get pillows and blankets for his friends.

After he had carried Cosette to their bedroom and went to sleep as well, their friends spaced out all over the flat: Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta took the bed in the guest room, Jehan and Combeferre slept on the floor, Bahorel fell asleep on Feuilly, Courfeyrac was curled up on the armchair, and Enjolras and Grantaire made themselves comfortable on the living room floor. Just before he fell asleep, Grantaire felt nimble fingers close around his own. He fell asleep with a smile on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for leaving kudos and sometimes even comments! It always makes my day!  
> Maybe check me out on [ tumblr ](http://mariuspondmercy.tumblr.com/)


	4. Darling We’re In Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exr week 2016  
> Day 4: Divine

“Here we go.” Enjolras placed the mug of steaming coffee carefully on the table in front of Grantaire.

“Thank you.” Grantaire smiled softly.

It was officially their ninth date – not that Grantaire had kept count. He only counted dates though which they had both labelled as dates. Somehow, they always ended their dates with a coffee in one of Paris’ many cafés. Right now, Grantaire was happily dipping his croissant into his latte, watching Enjolras slump down into the chair opposite of him.

“Of course. Thank you for today.”

“Thank you for planning the lunch date. It’s a shame with the weather though.” Grantaire tugged at a curl, still dripping wet from their encounter with the thunderstorm.

Enjolras blushed and busied himself with taking off his coat. “I think you look cute.”

“Aww, thank you. But you’re also dating me, so…”

“So I have to say it? That’s bullshit. Well… maybe I’m dating you because I think you’re cute. Ergo, I’m saying you’re cute because I’m dating you.”

Grantaire beamed at him. “So we’re really dating?”

“Of course we’re dating. We’ve been on plenty of dates.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re dating. I really do want to date you, though,” Grantaire said.

“Of course we are dating.” Enjolras squeezed his hand softly. “And I don’t care that we’re not soulmates. I really don’t give a shit about that. I enjoy being with you.”

“So much that you’d enjoy changing your Facebook relationship status?”

Enjolras pulled a face. “I don’t do that kinda thing. But if that’s your way of asking me to go steady and be your boyfriend… I happily accept. Does it matter to you that we aren’t soulmates?”

Grantaire shook his head. “Nah. My mum was with her soulmate and it went to shit. She’s with not her soulmate now and happier than ever. So… does that mean I can kiss you?”

“Yes, but not here, please. I’m not too big on PDA. It’s totally okay around my friends, because I’m super comfortable with them. But around just your friends… I don’t know.”

“Of course. How’s holding hands?”

“This is good.” Enjolras squeezed his hand again. “A bit awkward, because… I don’t know.”

“Because getting into a relationship should feel more natural and less talk-y?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“Enjolras, you make your living with talking. Plus, communication is key. It’s good that we talk about it. I hardly ever did that in other relationships but with you I’m not afraid.” He smiled softly. “And now I’m getting sappy, so let’s stop that. So, no soulmates is fine? What if you happen to find your soulmate?”

“What if you happen to find yours?”

“I think we should cross that bridge when we get to it. Meeting your soulmate doesn’t equal getting together and marrying them. Or loving them. I’m really not worried about that at all. More worried about today’s soulmate impression.” He furrowed his brows. “I woke up feeling divine. How the fuck does one feel divine?”

Enjolras chuckled and leaned back in his seat. He squeezed Grantaire’s hand once more before taking his mug in both hands. “I have no idea. Maybe you feel very heavy because divinity always comes with a burden?”

“That makes sense, yeah. I felt pretty heavy when I woke up. Like… something pressing down on me hard in the back of my head. It was different when I had the actual impression. So weird.”

“It truly is weird. The whole thing with impressions on your birthday and then lingerings afterwards is really strange.” Enjolras hummed and took a sip from his coffee. “It’s my birthday in two weeks. I’m equally scared and looking forward to the new impression.”

“Would it maybe help if I stayed over?”

They hadn’t done that yet, stayed over at each other’s place. They hadn’t even kissed! Grantaire liked it. Somehow it made it all more pure than his previous relationships. Not that there was anything wrong with kissing or sex – oh hell no, he wanted to do both things very badly with Enjolras. But it felt good to go slow for once.

“Maybe it would help,” Enjolras smiled shyly. “I would like to try it. I think it’ll be nice, to have the soulmate impression and then wake up next to you. They always leave me exhausted, so…” He blushed a little, the blush that spread down his neck, the blush Grantaire loved so much. “So I think it’ll be nice to wake up totally exhausted but with you at my side. If you’re comfortable sharing a bed, that is.”

“I have no problem sharing a bed with my boyfriend. Especially not on the night of his birthday.” He wiggled his eyebrows, causing Enjolras to snort.

“Keep it in your pants, Grantaire. At least for now.”

“You can bet the R isn’t the only grand thing about me.”

“Oh my God.” Enjolras groaned and blushed hard. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Little death?”

“Grantaire!” He shook his head but a slight grin crept upon his lips. “Trust me, it’s gonna be a great Little Death. In the future though.”

“In the future,” Grantaire nodded. “It seems like the rain has stopped. Should we quickly get going or rather finish the coffee here and run danger that it’s raining again when we leave?”

“Finish it here? I don’t quite feel like letting you go just yet.”

Grantaire smiled softly at him. He popped the last bit of his croissant into his mouth and leaned back into the armchair with a sigh. They hadn’t been to this café yet, but Grantaire made a mental note to add it to his list of favourites. It was dimly lit, cozy, there was mellow jazz music playing in the background. And Enjolras had called him his boyfriend. No matter how shitty the coffee was (it wasn’t, it was good coffee), he’d still love the small coffee shop.

“Actually, maybe…”

“Yeah?” Grantaire prompted him softly. He could see how tense Enjolras was, the rigid set of his shoulders, the furrow of his brows.

“Maybe you could just come to my place for a movie? This is not a euphemism.” He fiddled with the sleeve of his jumper.

Grantaire carefully placed his hand over Enjolras’ to make him stop. “I’d love to come to your place and watch a movie with you. No euphemism. What are you in the mood for?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed in relief and squeezed Grantaire’s hand.  “I’m sure Netflix has something good to offer. You wanna head out?”

“Sure.” Grantaire rose, shrugged on his coat, and held out his hand to help Enjolras up.

Linking their fingers, Enjolras and Grantaire made their way to the former’s flat. Just meters before they reached the door, it suddenly started raining cats and dogs again. Grantaire started laughing and pulled Enjolras along with him.

“There you have your divinity!” Enjolras growled. “Or the Gods wrath. We didn’t even do anything wrong today!”

Grantaire only laughed louder and kissed his cheek, pulling him along. “Good thing I don’t have to go back to my place just now. So, the Gods are having mercy.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and quickly unlocked the door. “Okay, I’m gonna get changed. Uhm… I’ll give you a towel and some spare clothes too, okay?”

“Are you sure they’ll fit? I’m a little chubby.”

“I know, it’s gorgeous.” Enjolras blushed. “I’m taller than you though, so I’m sure it’ll all fit.”

Enjolras quickly got Grantaire a towel, his biggest jumper, and some sweatpants before changing himself. While he was still busy in the bathroom, Grantaire took the liberty to make some tea and build a small, somewhat pathetic blanket nest. After all, he only had two pillows and one thin blanket.

“Enjolras!” Grantaire yelled, somewhat chiding.

“What?” He yelled back.

“We need to have a word about the horrible blanket situation in your house.”

Enjolras stepped back into the living room and furrowed his brows. “Again, I repeat myself: what?”

Grantaire gestured to the sofa. “Look at this. It’s sad. We need more pillows.”

“Alright. Help me carry some from my bedroom then.”

Grantaire quickly followed him and together they built a respectable blanket nest slash pillow fort. With a content sigh, Grantaire sank down onto it and snuggled into the pillows. He smiled up at Enjolras.”Join me?”

“In a bit. I’m just setting up Netflix on my TV.”

It took them some bickering and arguing until they had finally decided on a movie (Spirited Away) and settled down together. Grantaire scooted closer until his head was rested on Enjolras’ chest. Throughout the movie, Enjolras kept running his fingers through Grantaire’s curls, playing with his hair.

“This is so good,” Grantaire hummed.

“It’s still raining.”

“I know. So soothing… it’s heavenly.”

Enjolras made an approving noise. “You know, my second soulmate impression actually was playing with dark hair. Though I didn’t know it was dark, I never saw it. But I always assumed it was dark. Maybe I wished it was. And on some days I wake up and just have this weird feeling of silk between my fingers.”

“Was today such a day?”

“Yes. I think that’s why I was so much more inclined to ask you to my flat today. Soulmate feeling, in a way. Do you think it rude?”

“That your soulmate feeling made you invite me? No, definitely not. I think it’s amazing. Like fate, a bit?”

Enjolras smiled softly and bent down a bit to kiss Grantaire’s forehead. “You know, maybe you could stay over tonight? I doubt it’ll stop raining anytime soon, and it’s a good excuse for you to sleep over. What do you say?”

“I’d love to. I really do. I just hope your sofa is comfy. Or do you have an air mattress?”

“I don’t, but I have a truly amazing bed which I’d be happy to share with my boyfriend.” He kissed his forehead once more.

Grantaire simply beamed at him, snuggling a little closer. Maybe this was what heaven was truly made out of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading!  
> Just a heads up: tomorrow will not be a proper chapter, as I made a modern media graphic accompanied by a few words. If I figure out how to post photos within the text, I'll do it. Otherwise it's just a few hundred words. You will find the graphic [ here ](http://mariuspondmercy.tumblr.com/tagged/exrweek2016)


	5. Up And Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this part is a bit shorter but it has graphics!   
> I you wanna check them out individually, go [ here ](http://mariuspondmercy.tumblr.com/tagged/exrweek2016)  
> Day 5 of exr week is "alternate setting", hence the graphics (it makes sense in my mind)  
> Enjoy!

Bossuet sighed and dropped a chaste kiss on Grantaire’s curls. “Why don’t you just text him to call you?”

“I did that,” Grantaire said, “but he’s at the rally so he can’t answer until later. He said he will, though.”

“How about you send him a photo so he can look at something that makes him happy. He’s always exhausted after rallies.” Bossuet sighed. “I wish I could’ve gone but alas.”

Just a day ago, a drunken stranger had stumbled into Bossuet outside the Musain. Unfortunately, said stranger had thought it an attack and immediately began to fight a startled Bossuet. Now the man was left with a split lip, a black eye, and a cracked rib. Grantaire, on the other hand, just didn’t care much for it. Plus, he still had a commission to work on.

“Go on,” Bossuet nudged him, “send him a snapchat.”

Grantaire sighed and nodded. He got out his phone and quickly took a snap, which he sent off after showing it to Bossuet.

“Aww, look at your cute smile,” Bossuet grinned. “But does that mean you’ll leave me now to rot in this hell by myself?”

“Nah.” Grantaire shook his head. “Your girlfriend left you with amazing chocolate and pistachio biscotti. No way I’m going! It’s a graphic commission anyway, and I’ve got my laptop with me. So if you’d please grab some biscotti for me?”

Bossuet groaned. “You’re such a diva!”

“I know!”

Yet, Bossuet got up and brought them some biscotti as well as coffee. He watched a movie on Netflix, cuddled up next to Grantaire while the latter worked on his commission. It was nice, Grantaire thought, to just be with his friend for a little while. Though he missed his boyfriend. Quite a lot. Usually Grantaire wasn’t much for missing boyfriends or girlfriends, he wasn’t clingy. But with Enjolras… it was just different with him.

He positively lit up when he saw that Enjolras had sent him a snapchat. “Look at his stupid face. Stupid man.” Grantaire frowned and shook his head. “I’ve gotta talk to him later tonight. He can’t just… he can’t… he’s got someone now, you know?”

“I know.” Bossuet squeezed his shoulder. “I’m super worried about my two idiots. But at least my idiot made sure your idiot isn’t bleeding anymore.”

“I know. Ugh, I’m already dreading next week. He’ll be all the way in the South, visiting his parents for who whole weeks. He won’t have any time for me.”

“Trust me,” Bossuet said, “Enjolras will have time for you.”

Bossuet should stay right. The first evening Enjolras was at his parents, Grantaire got a text message at nearly midnight, asking him to video-call him the next day around noon. According to Enjolras, his parents would both be at work and he missed Grantaire already.

The next day, Grantaire was giddy with excitement.

“Enjolras, hey!” He beamed at him through his phone. “How’s the South?”

“Warm,” he laughed. “And I think something’s wrong with my phone? My video is black and white.”

“It’s for the aesthetic,” Grantaire said, “because the phone couldn’t handle your beauty in colour.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes, but grinned. “The aesthetic, huh?”

“I’m an artist, I know my shit, don’t question it.”

Once again, Enjolras couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, okay. I’m not questioning you. I’m just glad to see you. You’ll come down for my birthday, right?”

“Of course, I promised.”

“I’m so excited! I’m excited for you to meet my parents. They will love you. I think they already adore you. Their stern son has an artist boyfriend? Dream come true for a mother who’s a fantasy novel author.”

“I’m really excited to meet your parents, too. Just gotta wait another week.”

“I hope you’re not too bored.”

“Nah, got plenty of friends here. Éponine and I went to the zoo yesterday. We spent an entire hour in front of the zebras. They had babies! And the kudus have hilarious horns. On Friday, Marius and I will go to a pottery art café. They let you paint your own mugs! And then they burn them! And you can take them home! It’s so cool and I don’t know who’s more excited, him or me. Courf also gave me a great idea for a new video on my YouTube channel.”

“Please tell?”

“It’s a surprise,” Grantaire beamed at him. “It’s gonna be up tomorrow probably. We’ll film it tomorrow morning and then I’ll do some editing and it should be up in the evening.”

   

They talked for another hour before Combeferre turned up at Grantaire’s place. He quickly greeted Enjolras and then went into the kitchen to make popcorn so Grantaire could say goodbye to his boyfriend in peace. Combeferre and Grantaire were scheduled for a Star Wars marathon, which both men were more than excited about. In the end, Grantaire didn’t manage to wake up in time for his video shoot with Courfeyrac, but late at night, Grantaire sent a text to Enjolras, only telling him to enjoy the video (with many, many, many winky emojis afterwards).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please welcome my fav faceclaims for Enjolras and Grantaire: Matthias Schweighöfer and Oscar Isaac.  
> Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exr week 2016 - day 6: died holding hands

Grantaire was slightly nervous when his plane landed. He hadn’t seen his boyfriend for the past week, which isn’t much – he’s gone longer without seeing a partner – but it was a lot with Enjolras. Grantaire was nervous because he was about to meet his boyfriend’s parents for the first time. He’d met the last potential parents-in-law back in uni, two years into a relationship. The three months with Enjolras was nothing against that. Either Enjolras was very secure in their relationship, or he didn’t care what his parents thought. But Grantaire knew that the latter wasn’t the case. Enjolras and his parents actually had a really good relationship with his parents. His mother was a fantasy novel author, his father was a politician. Both were the main reason for his involvement with politics, had always encouraged him to speak his mind and never let his dreams be just dreams.

“Grantaire!” Enjolras called out his name as soon as he came into view.

Grantaire beamed at him and hugged him tight.

“I’ve missed you,” Enjolras said, kissing him softly.

Smiling into the kiss, Grantaire pulled him a little closer. He ran his fingers through Enjolras’ curls, causing the other man to gasp a little. Enjolras pulled away and grinned at him.

“Let’s head home? It’s an hour drive, so not too bad. You’ll meet my parents tonight, because I want you to settle in first and not be greeted by my overwhelming parents. That okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect. I’m actually really glad I don’t have to meet them right away. Can we just cuddle a lot, maybe? Or do you have other plans?”

“Cuddling was my plan,” Enjolras said with a smile. “Let me take your suitcase.”

Enjolras took Grantaire’s hand and his suitcase, leading his boyfriend to the car. During the hour-long ride, the two of them caught up with each other, despite having video-chatted twice during the week. There was still so much to tell! Enjolras even asked Grantaire to sing him a song from his latest video. Once they were at Enjolras’ childhood home, Enjolras gave him a quick tour through the house before settling into Enjolras’ room. There, they simply curled up on the sofa, Enjolras running his fingers through Grantaire’s curls.

“I’ve already told my parents so much about you. They won’t attack you with questions, so don’t worry about that.”

Grantaire breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for his boyfriend’s thoughtfulness. Enjolras knew exactly how Grantaire’s anxiety worked, that it acted up in such situations. Grantaire was simply glad his boyfriend kept tabs on it and made sure to accommodate him as much as possible.

“They’ll of course ask you a few things, but that’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, some curiosity is good. I mean, I’m dating their son. They should want to know a few things. As long as no one will start talking about soulmates…”

Enjolras sighed softly. “My dad is really into soulmates. My parents are soulmates, and I know at least Papa would wish for me to end up with my soulmate. But Mama always says it doesn’t matter as long as I’m happy. They know we’re not soulmates, they know it can be a touchy topic but with my birthday tomorrow, and with the next impression that day… I’m gonna try and steer conversations away from soulmates.”

“Thank you. Though I really don’t mind talking about it, as long as your dad isn’t too pushy.”

“He won’t be. He’s a really great person.”

“Well, he raised you, you’re awesome, ergo he’s awesome.”

Enjolras laughed softly and pressed a kiss to Grantaire’s temple. “I’m not sure that’s how it works. Your dad was an ass, but you’re still amazing.”

“Eh, I’m alright.” Grantaire snuggled closer and sighed. “You think you’ll be alright tonight?”

“Definitely. I’ve got you by my side. Do you know if soulmate impressions stop once you’ve met your soulmate?”

“I honestly don’t know. I could send a text to Joly and ask him. But what if your soulmate dies? Do the dreams start again then? Or just stop? Imagine you haven’t met your soulmate – well you haven’t but you know what I mean. What I want to say is: when you’re young and you have those dreams and you’re in your early twenties and your soulmate dies in a car crash, do the dreams just stop because you cannot meet your soulmate, ever? Or do you get a new soulmate?”

“I have no idea. I also don’t really care all that much. I’m sure there’s books on it, if you’re interested.”

“Not right now. In this moment, I just want to cuddle until your parents get back and I’ll have to face the harsh reality of being a dwarf among giants.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes affectionately. “My dad is slightly shorter than me, my mum about my height. I’m not nearly as tall as Combeferre or Marius though.”

“They’re Titans anyway. I’m telling you. Or they were, in a past life.”

“A past life, huh?” Enjolras kissed his forehead.

“Soulmates exist. Ferre believes in aliens. So why not past lives or reincarnations. Ohhhh, maybe,” Grantaire laughed, “maybe soulmates are soulmates because they were together in a past life! And maybe you just can’t find them sometimes because they died much earlier than you in the past life. Take Achilles and Patroclus. Patroclus joined Achilles spirit so much later. Maybe Achilles is now left to wander and wonder, because there should be a soulmate, but there’s no way he can grasp it, can find him, because Patroclus was reincarnated a decade later and sent to, I don’t know, Chile maybe, while Achilles was reincarnated in Greece.”

“That’s a wild theory. Very unlikely.”

“I know. But, just imagine, okay, just play this little mind-game with me: What if Achilles and Patroclus are the first set? And then you have... shit, I don’t know. Merlin and Arthur? But because Arthur married Guinevere, Arthur didn’t end up with his soulmate. What if their reincarnations, Arthur’s and Merlin’s, lived in the 1940s, but Achilles’ slash Arthur’s reincarnation has soulmate impressions of Patroclus while Patroclus’ slash Merlin’s reincarnation has soulmate impressions of Arthur?”

Enjolras furrowed his brows. “So what you’re saying is, given the unlikelihood of reincarnations, two people could be soulmates but never knew because they have impressions of different past lives?”

Grantaire laughed. “It’s absolute bullshit though. I mean, you never know, but if reincarnations existed, I’m sure we’d know about them.”

“I agree. We’d know, it would be a capital T Thing, probably even bigger than soulmates. Maybe reincarnations are not always each other’s soulmates though.”

“I think all of that is a problem for Parallel Universe Enjolras and Grantaire.” Grantaire kissed his boyfriend softly.

“Again, totally agree,” he laughed, kissing back lovingly.

They spent the time until Enjolras’ parents came home with slow and lazy kisses developing into a heavy – but fully clothed – make-out session. It was ridiculous how much Grantaire had missed Enjolras – his Enjolras. By now, he was bold enough to say it. After all, he was about to meet The Parents, capital letters necessary. Dinner ended up being really nice, at least from Grantaire’s point of view. He got on really well with Enjolras’ mum, complaining that some book covers changed half-way through the series. Over the course of the evening, Grantaire noticed that Enjolras grew increasingly nervous. His parents noticed as well, which is why they were happy to leave Enjolras and Grantaire to themselves. Sure, his father was a bit upset about not being able to celebrate his son’s 27th birthday at midnight. They all agreed that it would be better though.

Shortly before midnight, Enjolras and Grantaire were curled up in Enjolras’ bed. The former happily snuggled into his boyfriend’s embrace, needing to be the little spoon for that night.

“You okay there?” Grantaire nuzzled his neck softly.

“Yeah. Bit tired. Bit exhausted. It’s always that way. ‘S why I hate my birthday.”

Grantaire hummed and squeezed his hands. “I like the stars over your bed.”

“Ferre’s doing. He started the tradition when we were six years old, for New Year’s Eve.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“I have no idea. I think we started uni and grew out of it? We kept it up in the first flat we had but then we moved and moved again and just… we should start it again, don’t you think?”

“Mhm, would be lovely. How about you tell him tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep?”

Enjolras nodded slowly and yawned. “Yeah. I really want to sleep now.”

Grantaire smiled softly and kissed his cheek, pressing Enjolras closer against him. Soon enough, both men were sound asleep. That was, until Grantaire woke up with a start.

Enjolras was crying next to him, clutching his hand so tightly, Grantaire felt as if it would break soon. His boyfriend shivered, shuddered, wept. It broke Grantaire’s heart. Carefully, he called out Enjolras’ name.

“Enjolras? Hey, darling, wake up, please.” Grantaire carefully tried to get his hand back, but to no avail.

He resigned, switching on the bedside lamp. Grantaire started whispering that everything was okay, that Enjolras was safe. It took nearly 15 minutes until Enjolras woke, drenched in cold sweat. He still clung to Grantaire like his life depended on it.

“Hey. Hey you,” Grantaire smiled softly. “What do you need?”

“Water,” he croaked.

Grantaire nodded and, with his hand still in Enjolras’ grip, somehow managed to hand him a glass of water. Enjolras gulped it down, placed it on his side of the bed and pressed against Grantaire.

“It was horrible,” Enjolras mumbled, his face hidden in the crook of Grantaire’s neck. “I died, I… I don’t know. But it hurt. My chest hurt. It still… it’s so hard to breathe, R. I can’t breathe! Please, please, do something, please…”

“It’s alright, I’m here, don’t worry, I’m with you.”

“And it burns,” Enjolras choked, “all over. It just… it hurts. It was only a dream so why do I feel it all over? My legs are wobbly, it feels like something snapped there, like a muscle was pulled. What if I can’t walk anymore? What if my soulmate died? What happened?”

“I don’t know. Usually impressions aren’t quite so physical. Show me where it hurts, please.”

Enjolras pointed to his chest, so Grantaire promptly pressed eight small kisses onto his clothed chest.

“Better?”

“Hurts less,” Enjolras nodded.

“Where else?”

“Ankles.”

Grantaire nodded softly and scooted down to softly kiss Enjolras’ ankles.

“I need you to hold my hand again,” Enjolras mumbled from above. “Makes me feel safer for some reason.”

Grantaire quickly curled up around him again, holding his hand. “Like this?”

“Yeah.” Enjolras took a deep breath. “This was horrible.”

“Your impressions are really intense.”

“It feels like I died a thousand times in a hundred different ways. But there was always… a presence. I can’t describe it better. Every time I died, someone was holding my hand. So please, just hold it. Don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t,” Grantaire mumbled, pressing a kiss to Enjolras temple, “and I never will. No matter how many deaths you die in your impressions, no matter how many later on when they come back on random days, I’ll be holding your hand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last chapter in this verse, the last day of exr week. Thank you all for kudos and occasional comments and reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! Maybe come talk to me on [ tumblr ](http://mariuspondmercy.tumblr.com/)


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